


A Sister, of Sorts

by MirrorMystic



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: (if you squint), Comedy, Family, Fluff, Gen, Polyamory, Post-Canon, quietly pushing my polypriory agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: “This is so strange,” Faye murmured into Celica’s ear. The new girl was brooding across the hill, shrouded in an aura of violet flame. “She’s, like… your evil twin, or something.”“Don’t call her ‘evil’,” Celica chided. “She’s just… blunt. Tactless. She’s been through a lot.”Mae raised a dubious eyebrow. “‘She’s not evil, she’s just mean’?”---In which Celica returns from her misadventure with the Order of Heroes with a… well. “Friend” might be a little much. (Hijinks ensue.)





	1. A Mirror, Darkly

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my excuse to write Team Novis + Faye and Conrad hanging out with comically serious, overwrought Fallen Celica. I hope you all enjoy the read!

~*~  
  
Celica bowed her head, her hands clasped in prayer.  
  
A beam of white light shot through her, gaining ribbons of color as it passed ghostlike through her form. The nimbus of light gathered in the center of the summoning altar and burst into a portal, iridescent and gleaming.  
  
The Summoner lowered their aim, Breidablik still shimmering in their hands. They stepped back and clasped their hands behind their back, inscrutable beneath their hood.  
  
Celica turned to her companion- her murky mirror image, her twin with shining crimson eyes, shrouded in an aura of violet flame.  
  
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.  
  
Her shadow dipped her chin in the barest of nods.  
  
“There is nothing for me there. Only death.” She replied, her voice echoed by an unsettling, shadowy rasp. “I have fought alongside you. You have proven yourself more capable than most of these worms. You are a rare, worthy companion. Like that girl with the Branded eyes, the blue one with the weight of destiny on her shoulders.”  
  
Celica giggled. She couldn’t help it- her other self was always so dramatic. “...You mean Lucina?”  
  
“Yes,” her shadow replied. “Like her, I shall be a champion of a fallen future. Even with my… condition… I stand ready to fight the coming calamity. I pledge myself to you, Princess.”  
  
Celica smiled. She reached out and took her other self’s hand, giving her an affectionate squeeze. Her shadow glared at her hand as if she’d just been offered a fistful of manure.  
  
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, truly,” Celica said. “But, um… in the world I’m from? The world is already at peace.”  
  
Her shadow blinked. “That seems… unlikely.”  
  
“It’s true,” Celica said. “So don’t worry about fighting.”  
  
Her shadow scrunched up her face, puzzled. “What… else… is there…?”  
  
“Well, for one thing, you’ll get to meet all my friends,” Celica grinned, pulling her forward. “Come on! It’ll be fun!”  
  
Her shadow glowered.  
  
“...disgusting…”  
  
Celica rolled her eyes. “Come on…”  
  
Despite her shadow’s halfhearted protests, she still let Celica pull her forward by the hand. They stepped through the Outrealm Gate, haloed in white light and violet flame, and then they were gone.  
  
~*~  
  
Celica’s return to Novis was… complicated, for everyone involved. For her part, Celica had expected some difficulty. She had, after all, vanished from Valentia to fight alongside the Order of Heroes for months, just when the continent was going through massive upheaval. But it would seem that time passed strangely in the Outrealms, and she returned to Valentia a mere week after she’d left.  
  
There was never a _good_ time for the Queen of Zofia to just disappear following the death of the gods- but being gone for just a week meant Celica’s “vacation” could be easily explained away. Even her outlandish story of being called to another world to fight alongside heroes from myth and legend was met with less surprise than she’d anticipated.  
  
But when it came to her shadowy counterpart coming home with her through the portal… well. That’s where things got complicated.  
  
“This is so strange,” Faye murmured into Celica’s ear. The new girl was brooding across the hill, shrouded in an aura of violet flame. “She’s, like… your evil twin, or something.”  
  
“Don’t call her ‘evil’,” Celica chided. “She’s just… blunt. Tactless. She’s been through a lot.”  
  
Mae raised a dubious eyebrow. “‘She’s not evil, she’s just mean’?”  
  
“Are you okay with this, Celica?” Genny spoke up. “I mean, after what happened in Duma Tower…”  
  
Celica winced at the memory. “...I know. It took some getting used to, believe me. But I couldn’t leave her behind. Just try to think of her as any of the other women who come to our doors seeking sanctuary. I’m entrusting her recovery to you- she’ll have nothing less than the best.”  
  
“What should we call her?” Faye wondered. “It seems rude to just call her ‘the other Celica’.”  
  
Celica shrugged. “I’ll ask her about it.”  
  
“Curious…” Boey mused, tapping at his chin. “What must it be like, I wonder? To be infused with Duma’s fell power, in a world where Duma has already fallen…”  
  
“If only the Faithful had lost their power upon Duma’s demise,” Faye grumbled. “It would’ve saved us the trouble of hunting down holdouts.”  
  
“Nah, it’ll be fun. I could use another field… trip…” Mae trailed off, making a face.  
  
Faye blinked. “What?”  
  
Mae cracked up, snickering. Faye rolled her eyes.  
  
“ _What_ , Mae?”  
  
“Fellica!” Mae blurted out, cackling. “‘Duma’s fell power’? We’ll call her Fellica! ‘Cuz… cuz it rhymes with-”  
  
“I get it, Mae!” Faye huffed.  
  
“That’s never going to stick,” Boey said, rolling his eyes.  
  
“I don’t know,” Genny mused, a finger to her lips. “I kind of like it!”  
  
Celica giggled. Faye huffed, indignant.  
  
“We’re _not_ . _Calling her._ **_F_ ** -”  
  
~*~  
  
“Fellica? Are you okay back there?”  
  
Celica’s shadowy other self let out an irritated growl.  
  
“I refuse to respond to that _preposterous_ nickname,” she hissed. “I am the will of the gods made flesh! I am the Dark Apostle, chosen champion of the War Father! The last gasp of the dying is a closer utterance of my true name than any that can pass through mortal lips without your tongues shriveling to ash in your mouths-”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Faye cut in. “So? How does it fit?”  
  
She blinked, perplexed, glancing down at her blouse and breeches. Simple, spare. Precisely the sort of thing one would expect to find in Silque’s old wardrobe.  
  
“I am above such mortal concerns as ‘fashion’,” she said, sliding aside the changing screen. “The clothes are adequate. You have my gratitude, worm.”  
  
Silque laughed, and shook her head. “...You’re welcome, then.”  
  
“Here, Fel-” Faye stopped short, hating that even she was starting to say it. “Silque’s always been better at stitching up bodies than fabric. So here- I made something for you.”  
  
Faye draped the capelet over the other girl’s shoulders, shining crimson eyes peering suspiciously at her every move. She reached up, clutching the fabric between her fingers. Her lips curled into an unnerving smile.  
  
“This color…” She purred, wicked. “ _Excellent._ A deep, bloody red, just like-”  
  
“Your eyes?”  
  
She stopped short and blinked, perplexed. She glanced quickly at the standing vanity in the corner of the room, catching a glimpse of her eyes, shining crimson with otherworldly power.  
  
“I… yes, I suppose.”  
  
“It gets cold out, when the wind picks up,” Faye said. “Or is ‘Duma’s champion’ above such mortal concerns?”  
  
“I am,” she snapped, though her expression softened. “...Nonetheless. Thank you, worm.”  
  
She turned with a flourish, and marched out of the room, her crimson capelet fluttering as she walked. Faye watched her go, amused. She shook her head.  
  
“‘Worms’...” Faye rolled her eyes. She flashed Silque a conspiratorial smile. “Y’know… if not for the creepy glowing eyes, the aura of dark magic, and the haughty, morbid speeches, she doesn’t seem _that_ bad. Is that strange?”  
  
“Well, she _is_ just like a crankier Celica,” Silque offered. “Why, do you think she’s cute, too?”  
  
Faye turned to glower at Silque, only to find her smiling knowingly, sipping her tea.  
  
Faye huffed. “...You know, if you weren’t a holy woman…”  
  
~*~  
  
A cool breeze swept across the hills. Genny took a deep breath and sighed, content, before falling on her back in the grass. She propped her diary up on her chest and began to write, enjoying the fresh air, the scent of the sea, and the sunlight caught up in her fluffy, rosy hair. The adventures of Ser Astra and Sister Genevuire begged to be written- and, having recently returned from her _own_ quest to slay a dragon, she had no excuse for writer’s block.  
  
But inspiration is a fickle thing, and Genny spent the better part of an hour staring at a blank page, tapping her quill pen against her chin.  
  
A shadow loomed over her page. Genny smiled, reaching up and patting an inquisitive sheep on the head.  
  
“Hello, Genny,” Genny said. Genny the sheep promptly bit the blank page out of human Genny’s diary.  
  
“Hey! Hey! Spit that out!” Genny cried. She picked up her cleric’s staff (and occasional shepherd’s crook) and bonked Genny the sheep on the head. She bleated, indignant, and spat the page onto the grass.  
  
Genny grumbled, stuffing the crumpled page into her robe. Another shadow loomed above her. She looked up- and squeaked in surprise, clutching her diary to her chest.  
  
“Oh! Hello, Fellica,” Genny smiled shyly. She gestured to the herd of sheep meandering across the surrounding hills. “I see you’ve met the Gennies.”  
  
She stared at her, eerie. “Explain,” she said.  
  
“We get a lot of sheep here in the Novis foothills,” Genny said brightly. “Now that King Alm has opened the border, there’s a huge demand for wool up north!”  
  
“No,” she said curtly. “You called this beast ‘Genny’. Explain.”  
  
“Oh!” Genny giggled. “That’s, um… that’s just a running joke we have here on Novis. All the sheep are named after me. Because of my hair, you see…?”  
  
She narrowed her eyes. She reached out, and Genny flinched, thinking, for a moment, that Celica would hit her. Instead, she gently laid a hand in Genny’s hair, a strange mix of feeling flickering across her face.  
  
“...I see,” she said. Her lips curled into a smile.  
  
Coupled with her aura and shining eyes, the smile looked more like a threat than anything else. Still, Genny smiled back. It was the thought that counted, right?  
  
Celica peered over Genny’s shoulder. “...What are you doing?”  
  
“Writing,” Genny said, self-consciously hugging her diary to her chest. “Or, I’m trying to. But I just don’t know if I have it in me, today.”  
  
“Curious…” Celica said, in that shadowy rasp. One of the Gennies shuffled forward out of the herd, investigating the newcomer in their midst. Celica narrowed her eyes in suspicion, her gaze flitting between Genny the sheep and Genny the human.  
  
“Go on,” Genny said. “You can pet her, if you like.”  
  
Celica laid a hand in Genny’s wool. Genny bleated.  
  
“Hm,” Celica mused. “They well deserve their namesake.”  
  
Behind her, human Genny smiled. Genny the sheep proceeded to take a bite out of Celica’s cape.  
  
“ _Impudent beast!_ ” Celica railed, snatching her cape out of Genny’s mouth. “You dare raise a tooth against Duma’s champion?! I should set your wool ablaze for this affront!”  
  
“Oh, please don’t…” Genny began, but then paused, entranced by Celica’s furious ranting. She flipped open her diary to a fresh page…  
  
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, beast!” Celica snarled, while Genny the sheep absent-mindedly chewed on a clump of grass. “This cape was given to me in adoration, crafted by mortal hands who knew their rightful place beside me! You are not worthy to have this fabric grace your heathen lips! Even this soft-haired worm has more respect for me than you, you- what is this?! What are you writing?!”  
  
Genny clapped her diary shut. “N-Nothing!”  
  
“You mock me, worm!”  
  
“No!” Genny squeaked. “I was just thinking it was getting dark, and I should be getting to the priory now, bye!”  
  
“Foolish girl! You speak of darkness, yet you have not space enough in your skull to comprehend true darkness! _Your eyes would melt and run like sorrow down your cheeks at the sight of what REAL darkness is!!!”_ _  
_ _  
_ Celica stood there, blazing with violet flame, hurling vitriol and perfectly good villain material at Genny the human’s retreating form. Eventually, Celica huffed and sat in the grass, her blazing violet aura receding closer to her skin, while the herd of Gennies milled around her, oblivious, unfazed.  
  
~*~  
  
Celica strode down the priory halls, Silque at her heels. If it were anyone else, any pretenses of queenly grace and poise would have fallen away as soon as her boots had hit the pier- but this was Silque. Even if she didn’t have her headdress and habit, she’d still be a sister.  
  
“How is she?” Celica asked, peeking in on studies and classrooms as they passed by.  
  
“Well,” Silque smiled. “I can’t say we’ve ever had a case like hers. She’s… adjusting. Gave Genny a bit of a scare last week. Not to worry, though- Genny placated her by offering her a role in the next chapter of her epic.”  
  
“Oh!” Celica gasped. “I’m so far behind…”  
  
“You’ll have time to catch up,” Silque cooed. “As long as the King can spare you…”  
  
“Believe me, Silque,” Celica smiled, patting her arm. “If it were up to me, I’d never leave.”  
  
Celica entered the Novis Archives, Silque lingering in the doorway behind her. Pages and pages of history lined the shelves around her- everything from registries of births and deaths on the island, sprawling family trees, historical texts and reams of arcane lore. She caught a brief glimpse of Boey on a ladder, his arms laden with scrolls. Celica gave him a wave, before pressing on, finally finding her quarry at a reading table in a secluded alcove.  
  
Her shadow glanced up at her, something like a smile flicking across her lips. It’s there for a moment, then it’s gone. Her smiles rarely reach all the way to her eyes, but they always start in her lips.  
  
“Hello, you,” she said, in that shadowy rasp.  
  
“Hello, me,” Celica grinned, taking a seat facing her dark reflection. “How have you been?”  
  
“Restless,” her shadow replied bluntly. “My talents are wasted in peacetime. My hands long for a purpose. A worthy foe. Do you have something for me?”  
  
Celica shook her head. “That’s something you have to find yourself.”  
  
“Sentiment,” her shadow muttered, scornful. “...I’ve busied myself throughout the monastery. Cooking. Crafting. Fixing. Reading. The soft one’s tale has captured my interest.”  
  
Celica beamed. “You’re reading Genny’s epic? Well, what do you think?”  
  
Her shadow’s eyes lit up- figuratively, in addition to literally. For once, the smile on her lips is echoed in her eyes, a flicker of genuine warmth flashing across her eerie crimson stare. But before she could answer, Celica raised her hands and waved her own question away.  
  
“Wait, wait, wait, don’t answer that. I’m not caught up! We’ll have to talk about it later.”  
  
Her shadow’s palm hit the table with a bang. Somewhere behind them, Boey’s armful of scrolls clattered to the floor.  
  
“ _Unacceptable_ ,” the other Celica growled.  
  
~*~  
  
The world kept turning, and life on Novis went on- for the most part, blissfully unaware of the world beyond the island. Celica stole every moment she could away from the castle, leaving the One Kingdom in the capable hands of King Alm and their royal court so she could go home to Novis. Celica brought stories home with her, of the One Kingdom’s growing pains, the efforts of a continent recovering from war. Sometimes she brought gifts. Rarely, she even brought guests.  
  
Her shadow had little patience for politics, and even less for the bewildered reactions of her twin’s guests.  
  
She paid them little mind. Besides, she had a book club to manage.  
  
“Until the soft one’s work is complete,” she began, Genny swelling with unusual pride at being referred to as ‘the soft one’, “we will have to choose a different work for our next reading. Does anyone have any suggestions? What about you, pink one?”  
  
“I think-” Mae and Faye both began, before glancing at each other and scoffing. “Ugh!”  
  
“Excuse me, Fel was asking me,” Faye said.  
  
“Um, Fel was asking _me_ ,” Mae insisted.  
  
“She said, ‘pink one’! _I’m_ the pink one!”  
  
“Oh, please. _I’m_ the pink one!”  
  
“You’ll be pinker when I’m through with you, sister!”  
  
Mae and Faye leaned over in their seats and started roughhousing like a pair of kids, spewing out taunts with more bark than bite. Boey and Silque glanced at each other, letting out long-suffering sighs.  
  
“We love them, don’t we?” Boey muttered.  
  
Silque shrugged, her chin in her hands. “It varies.”  
  
“It almost makes you miss when we were all ‘worms’...”  
  
“Excuse me, Fel?” Genny spoke up, her little voice nearly drowned out by Mae and Faye’s playfighting. “May I suggest a book?”  
  
“Of course, soft one. But not if you all insist on that insipid nickname. Call me by my proper title.”  
  
Genny giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lord Champion, Exalted of Duma, Dark Apostle, Lady of Black Magic and Lord of the Dance…”  
  
“What was that last one?” Celica teased, seated at her reflection’s right hand.  
  
Celica’s shadow was debating whether to correct the soft one’s error or to take her teasing her stride when a stranger burst into the room.  
  
“Fresh cookies, everyone~!”  
  
While an excited murmur swept across the room, Celica’s shadow was unmoved. She narrowed her eyes at the man in indignation.  
  
He was chipper. She _hated_ chipper.  
  
Conrad put on a bright smile, offering her a cookie.  
  
“For you, my Lord Champion…?” Conrad offered, stifling a flicker of unease.  
  
Celica’s aura flickered. She sniffed. At least this one knew his manners.  
  
She took the offered cookie and stared at it, dubious. Conrad watched her with a hopeful expression, straddling the line between fear and anticipation. Conrad stuffed his hands in his tunic pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. He scanned the circle of faces around the table, basking in the glow of satisfied eaters.  
  
“Conrad, you’re the _best_ ,” Mae gushed, her mouth full.  
  
“These are delicious, Conrad. Thank you,” Silque added, in a rather more dignified manner.  
  
“I’m thrilled you enjoy them!” Conrad preened. “When Anthiese invited me down here to see you all, you know I had to make an extra-special batch for old times’ sake. Why, you’ll never guess what I put in th-”  
  
Conrad gagged. Celica’s shadow rose to her feet, violet fire wreathing her form, one hand clamped around his throat.  
  
“You _dare_ ,” she seethed, “you dare to poison me, you pathetic tin-plated wretch!”  
  
There was a hasty chorus of voices around the table. Mae, Faye and Silque all leapt to their feet- but Celica didn’t get up. She took her counterpart’s hand in hers, and squeezed.  
  
“Fel…” Celica warned.  
  
Her aura flickered like a candle in a stiff breeze, and her temper guttered along with it. She released Conrad with a gasp, sinking back into her seat.  
  
Conrad cleared his throat, meeting both Celicas’ eyes, one rather more warily than the other.  
  
“...It’s, um… It’s coffee,” he said, managing a hopeful smile. “I’ve heard that a pinch of coffee mixed into the dry ingredients really brings out the flavor of the chocolate. Uh… try it!”  
  
Her counterpart gave her hand another encouraging squeeze. She frowned, bringing the cookie to her lips and taking a tentative bite.  
  
For someone so quick and so bombastic in her displeasure, the stunned quiet that followed truly spoke for itself. She lowered herself into her chair, seemingly lost in thought.  
  
“Are you okay, Conrad?” Celica whispered beside her.  
  
“Yes, yes, I’m alright,” Conrad murmured. “Not to worry. I’m always happy to cook for you, Anthiese. And the quickest way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach.”  
  
“Wrong.”  
  
Conrad looked up, and found himself staring down an eerie pair of shining crimson eyes.  
  
“A blade between the ribs makes for easier access,” she intoned, making uncomfortably intense eye contact. “But, if you were aiming to reach under the breastbone, cut away its supports, and tear out a heart intact, rather than just stop it… then yes, I suppose the stomach is the way to go.”  
  
Conrad swallowed hard. Celica’s shadow suddenly became aware that everyone in the room was looking at her.  
  
She bowed her head.  
  
“...I apologize, soft one,” she said.  
  
Conrad broke into a grin. “...Hey, no harm done! So, tell me, did you like the cookie? Would you care for another? I have plenty!”  
  
“First, reparations must be made,” she announced. She got out of her chair, marched over to Conrad, and bowed her head. “...Go on. Claim your vengeance.”  
  
Conrad blinked, puzzled. “Uh… excuse me?”  
  
“I apologize for the disturbance,” she said. “You may choke me now, if you wish.”  
  
Across the table, Mae broke into ugly laughter, followed swiftly by Celica’s stifled giggles. Conrad squirmed, fighting a smile.  
  
“...No… that’s… okay…”  
  
~*~  
  
Their swords met like a thunderclap, a ringing clash that echoed across the foothills and made a few of the Gennies raise their heads in wonder. Mae and Faye locked eyes above their crossed blades, their lips curled into daring grins- and then broke, Faye dropping into a low, practical guard and Mae spinning across the grass with an artful flourish.  
  
“You keep prancing around like that, you’re gonna get killed,” Faye called out.  
  
“It’s called being light on your feet, sister,” Mae teased. “You should try it sometime!”  
  
“Why is it, every time you call me ‘sister’, it sounds like a flirt or a threat?”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll try not to read into that…” Mae laughed. “Boey! What’s the score?”  
  
The rest of the priory was arrayed on the grass, Silque having laid down a blanket so as not to stain her habit. Genny was leaning against her, her diary propped up on her knees. Boey withdrew the hand he’d had affectionately resting in her hair, shaking out the scroll on his lap.  
  
“In the past nine months, Mae, you’re at 12 wins, Faye’s at 12 wins, and there have been 12 draws between you,” Boey called out. “It’s shockingly even, really. This means this week is, yet again, a tie breaker.”  
  
“You can do it, Mae!” Genny cheered.  
  
“Go on, Faye! _Fuck her up!_ ”  
  
Boey, Celica and Genny all shot her a strange look. Silque smiled, sheepish.  
  
“...I- I’m sorry, I- I just get very invested in the sport.”  
  
“War is not a sport,” came a shadowy rasp at Celica’s side. “It is a means to an end.”  
  
Mae raised her sword in salute, magical lightning shivering along the blade. Faye saluted her in turn, cold blue fire wreathing her sword.  
  
“Are you ready for me, sister?” Faye taunted. “Girls are watching.”  
  
“Yeah, so you better not half-ass this,” Mae called back. “I want your whole ass.”  
  
Faye snorted. “Oh, yeah? Well, come and get it.”  
  
Mae charged forward, a pink-haired comet wreathed in azure lightning. She took a running jump and somersaulted through the air. For all her taunting, Mae _was_ pretty quick on her feet- but in the air, she didn’t fall any faster than anyone else.  
  
Faye grit her teeth, and shifted her stance.  
  
A nimbus of light and color exploded from their blades as they clashed, scorching spell patterns into the grass beneath their feet. Faye braced her sword in both hands and smashed aside Mae’s leaping slash. Committed to her jump, Mae’s own momentum propelled her right into Faye’s grasp- and Faye spun into the blow, crunching her elbow into Mae’s stomach before hooking a leg around her ankle and sweeping her right off her feet.  
  
Mae hit the ground with a gasp, the impact jarring the breath from her lungs and her sword from her grip. She lay there, stunned, as Faye crouched over her, reached up, and gently patted her on the cheek.  
  
“Better luck next time, huh, sister?” Faye teased. She reached up, pulled out one of Mae’s hair ties, and looped her trophy around her wrist.  
  
Faye returned to the stands, victorious, accepting a waterskin from Silque. Mae staggered to her feet, groaning in indignation as one of her twintails came undone and left her lopsided.  
  
“Hey!” Mae called, yanking out her other hair tie and letting her hair fall freely down her shoulders. “I’m not done! I can… I can do this all day…!”  
  
“Sorry, Mae,” Boey said, scratching Faye’s victory into his records. “A pin is a pin. You’ll just have to wait ‘til next week’s match.”  
  
“Aw, come on!” Mae whined. “You can’t get me all hyped up like this and then leave after just one shot!”  
  
“If I had a piece of silver for every time I heard that…” Saber muttered. Conrad laughed and dug a scandalized elbow into his ribs.  
  
“What was that, Saber? You got something you want to say to me?” Mae called.  
  
“Here’s a lass who knows what’s up,” Saber called back, grinning, clapping a hand on Faye’s shoulder as she went past. “All you Mages are always so twirly. This is a fight, not a dance.”  
  
“Fight me, Saber! I’m not afraid to hit an old man!”  
  
“Old jokes are a sign of desperation, kiddo!”  
  
“C’mon, I’m still rarin’ to go! Who’s up for it?” Mae called. “Celica?”  
  
Celica raised her hands. “Oh, no, no, Mae, I could never-”  
  
“I will face you.”  
  
Celica’s shadow stood, meeting Mae’s eyes across the hill with that intense, crimson stare.  
  
Mae balked. “Uh… Fel, I uh… you know… I don’t want you to get _hurt_ …”  
  
“Your fear is understandable,” she said, drawing her parallel Beloved Zofia in a crackle of violet flame. “Only a fool would face me. But you are a coward if you would turn away.”  
  
Mae’s eyes flashed. “I’m no coward.”  
  
“Then prepare yourself, pink one, for you shall lock blades with a _god!_ ”  
  
Mae raised her sword in salute.  
  
“Be careful, both of you!” Celica called.  
  
“Kick her ass, Fel!” Faye cried out.  
  
“Love you, too,” Mae grinned, fondly rolling her eyes- and then she scrambled back on the defensive, suddenly parrying a hurricane of blows. Mae’s confidence withered under the relentless assault. There was a ringing clash, and Mae braced her sword in both hands, arms shaking under the weight of her foe’s inhuman strength.  
  
Lightning sparked between Mae’s fingers in defiance. She cried out, and threw her foe backwards in a cascade of crackling electricity. Bolts of magic burned smouldering furrows into the ground beneath her, and she ran, wreathed in light and power, leaping through the air-  
  
Celica’s twin caught her as she came down, one hand clamped around her throat. Mae wriggled and squirmed in her grasp, kicking her legs uselessly.  
  
“O-Okay…” Mae choked. “...Okay, Fel… you… you got me…”  
  
“Fel!” Celica called out. “Put her down, please!”  
  
“Very well,” she said, and tossed Mae across the field.  
  
Mae crashed into a bundle of fluff and flopped down into the grass, sending a poor Genny scurrying away with an indignant bleat. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, massaging her aching throat.  
  
“...Okay,” Mae muttered, “maybe the whole spinny, jumpy thing isn’t working out for me…”  
  
A shadow loomed over her, and she flinched- before blinking, and taking the offered hand. She rose to her feet, meeting that eerie crimson gaze. For once, though, the smile on her lips was echoed in her eyes, and it seemed… different, somehow. Warmer. Almost playful.  
  
“Thank you for the match, pink one,” she said. “So, what do I win?”  
  
~*~  
  
She stood in the nave of the priory, violet fire flickering across her form, her shining crimson eyes fixed on the impassive stone gaze above her. After a moment, she was joined by her twin. Celica took her hand and squeezed, without any fuss. They stood side by side, valorous red and pure white, in the shadow of the divine.  
  
“Are you okay?” Celica asked.  
  
“Unclear,” Fel murmured.  
  
The carved likeness of Mila rose above her, silent, inscrutable.  
  
“You are a servant of Mila,” Fel said, squeezing her counterpart’s hand. “I am the champion of Lord Duma. We stand for different principles. My mere existence should be an affront to you and your kin. This priory is a house of Mila. I should hate this place. Hate you. And yet…”  
  
Fel breathed out a sigh, pensive, troubled.  
  
“...Yet, perhaps such differences are meaningless in this world. After all, the gods are dead.”  
  
“Maybe not,” Celica said gently. “A sliver of Duma’s power lives on in you. And the whole point of this priory, to a life of piety, charity, and service, is to keep Mila’s spirit alive. I guess you could say we’re all Mila’s champions.”  
  
Fel snorted. “Foolishness. I could kill you all easily.”  
  
Celica rolled her eyes. “There’s more to life than just fighting, Fel. We’re all worms compared to the Dark Apostle, Lord Champion, Exalted of Duma…”  
  
“Lady of Black Magic and Lord of the Dance, and don’t you forget it,” Fel sniffed, haughty, but her expression softened. “...Still. Despite this… I find I have enjoyed my time here.”  
  
“Really? Even among such soft, weak, worms?” Celica teased.  
  
“No,” Fel said. “Among the… kind.”  
  
Fel turned, and met Celica’s gaze. Her eyes shone with warmth, and light.  
  
“Thank you. Sister.”  
  
Celica’s lip quivered, before she yanked Fel into her arms. Fel blinked, puzzled, her hands hanging at her sides.  
  
“What is this. Why are you touching me.”  
  
“I’m giving you a hug,” Celica said. “It’s a way of showing affection.”  
  
Fel scrunched up her face. Celica laughed.  
  
“I know, I know. ‘Disgusting’...”  
  
Fel shook her head, perplexed. “...No. Unclear.”  
  
Celica giggled, and took Fel by the hand.  
  
“Come on. Everyone’s waiting…”  
  
~*~  
  
They emerged from the priory halls into the brilliance of the Novis foothills, their capes fluttering in the seaborne breeze. Genny caught sight of them and came running, nudging her way past the herd of Gennies. She stopped just short of colliding with the two of them, clutching her diary to her chest.  
  
“Fel! It’s done!” Genny squealed.  
  
“Your new chapter?” Fel grinned. “ _Excellent._ ”  
  
“I told you, as soon as I finished, you’d be the first to know!” Genny beamed. “Here it is! Fresh, first draft! I haven’t even put it on a fresh scroll in the archive, yet! Do you wanna see, Celica?”  
  
“Oh, no, no,” Celica said, sheepish. “I’m… still not caught up…”  
  
“ _Celica!_ ” Genny pouted, but it didn’t last long. Fel was already pulling her away.  
  
“Come, soft one. I am eager to hear if Ser Astra made it back across the ocean to be reunited with Sister Genevuire…”  
  
They disappeared into the herd of Gennies, Celica laughing, a hand to her mouth. Across the way, she could see Boey setting out a blanket, Silque carrying a jug of sweet tea. Saber was beside her, a pair of wrapped bottles nestled guiltily in his arms. He flashed Silque a conspiratorial wink, clinking a bottle against her jug. Conrad came at their heels, a pair of still-steaming picnic baskets slung over his arms.  
  
Mae and Faye appeared at Celica’s side in an instant, clinging to her arms.  
  
“Hey, about time!” Mae grinned.  
  
“Mae just couldn’t _wait_ to see you…” Faye teased.  
  
“Yeah, like you can talk…”  
  
“Fight me, Mae.”  
  
“I’ll do it! That’s a threat!”  
  
“No fighting…” Celica chided, in vain, as Mae and Faye took off across the field in an impromptu race, shouting out taunts.  
  
The hours raced by, basking under a radiant, cloudless sky. Genny snuck off into the fields to get started on the next chapter of her epic; Silque and Saber took turns telling racy stories while Conrad listened, scandalized, his cheeks growing red; and Mae somehow wound up sprawled across Boey, Faye, and Celica, her head on Celica’s lap, one of Boey’s scrolls propped against her legs.  
  
“Get your butt off me,” Faye grumbled, half-hearted.  
  
“Nope! Too late!” Mae stretched, letting out a content sigh. “I’m comfy.”  
  
Across the field, Fel appeared over Genny’s shoulder. Genny clapped her diary shut, squealing.  
  
“Spoilers!” Genny chided. Fel merely chuckled, and relented. She looked up, caught Celica’s eyes across the way, and smiled.  
  
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Mae murmured from Celica’s lap. Celica smiled sadly, petting Mae’s hair.  
  
“I know. But I can’t keep leaving Alm to run the kingdom alone for weeks at a time.”  
  
“Why not?” Faye asked. “He seems to be doing just fine.”  
  
Celica laughed. “Faye, I can’t keep asking him to go on these ‘vacations’...”  
  
“Why? Because he’ll always say ‘yes’?” Faye grinned.  
  
“Here’s an idea,” Boey offered. “Why don’t you send Fel to the castle in your place? You’re practically twins.”  
  
“Sure, Boey,” Celica laughed. “With the aura of dark fire, and the glowing eyes…”  
  
“You _do_ have beautiful eyes,” Faye cooed.  
  
“Kiss-up!” Mae called.  
  
“Kiss _this_ , sister,” Faye shot back. Mae sat up and obligingly pecked her on the cheek.  
  
“I don’t know, Boey,” Celica said, steering them back on track. “Conrad’s one thing. Alm, well, it’ll be strange to see her in person, but I think he’d be fine. But I don’t know if Fel’s ready to leave the island.”  
  
“Why not? She’s been here almost a year already,” Faye said.  
  
“Ah, her nameday’s coming up,” Boey said. “I should get her something. Perhaps a book.”  
  
“I still don’t know why Fel and Celica can’t just share a nameday,” Mae said. “Double the party! Double the presents!”  
  
“Because she didn’t _have_ that name until she arrived here,” Boey said.  
  
“I still can’t believe ‘Fellica’ stuck,” Faye teased.  
  
“More to the point, Faye?” Celica chimed in. “I don’t think the world outside the island is ready for _her_ . What would people say if the long lost princess of Zofia turned out to also have a long lost twin? I’m not sure the world’s ready for another me.”  
  
“ _I_ am,” Mae offered, bold as brass.  
  
A moment of stunned silence.  
  
“ _Mae_ ,” Boey chided, aghast.  
  
“What?” Mae asked, defensive, seeing all the eyes on her. “Oh, like you guys weren’t thinking it!”  
  
“Way to make it weird, Mae!” Faye said, shoving her off her lap. “What, you want Celica _and_ Fel all to yourself?”  
  
“I didn’t say that. I was just saying-”  
  
“Come on, you weirdo! They’re sisters!”  
  
“One of them’s from another dimension or whatever, so they’re not technically related-”  
  
“If you have to say ‘they’re not _technically_ related’, then-”  
  
“Oh! Okay!” Mae fired back, while beside her, Celica was vibrating with laughter and Boey buried his head in his hands. “So you mean to tell me, if you ran into another you-”  
  
“That was possessed by Duma?!”  
  
“That’s not the point! If you ran into other-dimension you, would you or would you not-”  
  
“What?! _Make out_ with them?!”  
  
“ _Answer the question!_ ”  
  
“What the- Is this the clone sex talk?! We are _not_ having the clone sex talk!”  
  
Celica clapped her hands over her mouth, cackling like a hyena. Across the field, Fel mirrored her laughter- having her aura flare with dark fire and sending the Gennies running, while Genny the human scolded her for scaring the sheep and bopped her on the head with her staff.  
  
Novis Priory continued its holy work, even if it was constantly interrupted by picnics, and parties, and visits that Celica pretended weren’t dates. Life on the island was soothing; relaxing, but never boring. The sun kept shining. The world kept turning.  
  
Fel and her new family lived, laughed, and loved.  
  
The world was at peace.  
  
~*~


	2. Made in the Shade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Valentia experiences its first heat wave of the summer, Fel experiences her first cuddle pile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The FE group chat's been nudging me to turn this 'verse into a full-fledged post-canon slice of life. I dunno if we're quite at that level just yet- but the idea of writing more fluff for this crew is, admittedly, sorely tempting. 
> 
> Here's a bonus chapter to scratch that itch, for now. And who knows? Maybe we'll see more. I hope you all enjoy the read! ^^

~*~   
  
A year after Duma’s fall, and summer had returned with a vengeance.    
  
In the common room at Novis Priory, it looked like the night of a murder. Two bodies were sprawled face down on the common room table. It would’ve been quite the grisly scene, if not for how loudly these ‘corpses’ were complaining.    
  
“Mother Mila, it’s hot!” Mae groaned, sprawled across the table.    
  
“Gods, I’m melting…” Faye muttered, tossing one of her braids over her shoulder. “...I don’t think I’ve ever hated having long hair as much as I do now…”   
  
“You should just chop it all off,” Mae said. “You remember Est? She looked great with short hair. Hell, gimme a knife, I’ll do it for you.”   
  
“If you think I’m letting you anywhere near my neck with a knife…”   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mae huffed. “C’mon! I’ll even let you do me!”   
  
Faye rolled her eyes. “Phrasing…”   
  
The door creaked open and Genny stepped in, her hair positively glowing with the summer heat.    
  
“Hey, Gen,” Faye said weakly, her head down on the table. “How are the Gennies?”   
  
“I’m honestly surprised they haven’t burst into flames,” Genny said flatly. It was so hot the heat had drained the chipper right out of Genny’s voice. She eased herself onto a nearby couch with a sigh, swiping a sleeve across her brow.    
  
“You’re showing some leg, I see,” Mae said, managing a smile. “Look at you, cutie.”   
  
“Stop…” Genny teased, hugging her legs to her chest. “I bet the other Gennies are wishing they had a summer habit they could change into…”   
  
“They’re not the only ones,” Silque said, stepping inside with Boey at her heels. Unlike Genny, whose summer habit ended at mid-thigh and gave her legs plenty of breathing room, Silque was still in her ordinary, full-length habit, her headdress dark with sweat.    
  
“Gods, Silque, I’m getting hot just looking at you,” Faye said.   
  
“Phrasing,” Mae muttered.    
  
“What? I rolled my sleeves up!” Silque demurred. “There are matters of decorum to consider, you know. This is a house of faith. We can’t just go lounging around in our smallclothes.”   
  
Beside her, Boey blinked, his tunic halfway off his shoulders. “We can’t?”   
  
“Wooooo, Boey!” Mae called. “Take it off!”   
  
Silque gave him a look. Boey sheepishly pulled his tunic back on.    
  
“Sorry, Mae,” he shrugged. “Nobody wants to see that.”   
  
“ _ I _ don’t,” Faye said.    
  
“I kinda do,” Genny murmured.    
  
“Genny, you’re a baby,” Faye chided.    
  
Genny pouted. “I’m not a baby!”   
  
“Alright, alright!” Mae grumbled. “But if you’re not gonna give us a show, could you at least go around and check the window charms? We’re dying in here.”   
  
“Why do you want him to check the charms?” Faye asked.    
  
“Because they’re not doing shit!” Mae snapped.    
  
“Well, neither are you! Why don’t you check on the-”   
  
_ “ _ Why is it that you _ always _ have something to say to me-”   
  
“Shut up.  _ Shut up _ !”   
  
Silence. Everyone glanced over at Silque, who smiled, sheepish.    
  
“...um… sorry. Temper,” Silque pulled off her headdress and mopped at her brow. “Mae, can you please check the window charms?”   
  
Mae heaved a sigh, before slapping her palms against the tabletop and wearily pushing herself to her feet. She crossed over to the window, muttering.    
  
“She won’t let us be lazy, she won’t let us get naked…”   
  
“Yes, Mae, I’m a real tyrant,” Silque teased.    
  
“Love you,” Mae sighed. She bonked her head against the windowframe and stayed there, the heat sapping all her energy. Slowly, she reached up and poked at the arcane sigil etched into the wood just above the open window.    
  
It shimmered at her touch, emitting a cool, gentle aura. Mae groaned.    
  
“It’s working,” Mae grumbled. “It’s working, but there’s no wind coming through the window, so there’s nothing for it to cool down. Ugh! You’re called a window, damn it! If you’re not gonna let wind in, then what are you even good for?!”   
  
Mae groaned in heat-induced despair and bonked her head against the wall.    
  
“Boey can conjure wind, can’t he?” Faye asked, with a knowing smile.    
  
“That’s it!” Mae squealed. “Boey! Be a pal and give us a nice breeze!”   
  
“That  _ does _ sound nice…” Silque admitted.    
  
“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” Boey sighed. “I only know the one wind spell, and it’s designed for  _ combat _ , not utility. What do you want me to do, blast you across the room?”   
  
Mae clapped her hands and hunched down into a fighting stance.    
  
“No, come on, I’m ready! Hit me!”   
  
“I’m not going to hit you, Mae.”   
  
“I’ll do it!”   
  
Boey rolled his eyes. “Faye…”   
  
“I think you should do what she says, Boey,” Genny giggled, a hand to her mouth. “This is Mae, after all. She can be  _ very _ persuasive.”   
  
“Boey!” Mae snapped. “You hit me with a wind spell right now, or I swear, I’m gonna thump you so hard-”   
  
“Yes! Threaten me, Mae! That’s an excellent motivator!”   
  
“Some people are into that!”   
  
“How is that helping, Faye?  _ How is that helping? _ ”   
  
It wasn’t long before Celica came by to investigate all the yelling. She opened the door to find a rush of wind in her face, voices raised in concern, and Mae on her back on the floor, laughing like a hyena.    
  
“Are you alright?!” Boey yelped, rushing to Mae’s side. Faye got there first, pulling her up. Normally, she’d love an opportunity to have them dote on her, but today, their body heat was unbearable. Mae swatted them both away.    
  
“Get off of me! Get off!” Mae complained. “It’s too hot! Nobody touch me!”   
  
“ _ What are you fools doing now? _ ”   
  
The shadowy rasp drew all eyes to the door. Fel shouldered her way in past Celica, glowering down at Mae. She blinked, puzzled.    
  
“Pink one. You are on the floor.”   
  
“Hey, Fel. Hey, Celica,” Mae sighed.    
  
“I take it you’re all trying to beat the heat, huh?” Celica asked.    
  
“A foolish endeavor,” Fel added flatly.    
  
“Oh, come on, Fel, don’t give me that,” Mae huffed. “You mean to tell me you’re not bothered by the heat?”   
  
“Such mortal concerns are below me, the Lord Champion, Exalted of Duma-”   
  
“...Lady of Black Magic and Lord of the Dance,” everyone chorused, droll.    
  
Faye glanced up at the twins. Fel was her usual dramatic self, in the crimson cloak Faye gave her and her perpetual aura of dark magic. But even Celica was fully dressed, in a full-length white gown and capelet.    
  
“You too, Celica?” Faye wondered. “Come on. Tell me you’re not boiling in that.”   
  
Celica shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just never really been bothered by the weather.”   
  
“Well, she does have dragon blood in her or something, right?” Genny wondered.    
  
“Or something,” Celica smiled. “Come to think of it, you know who else never seemed to be bothered by the weather? Alm.”   
  
~*~   
  
Halfway across Valentia, in Zofia Castle, Alm sneezed.    
  
“Bless you, sire,” Lukas said, stoic.    
  
“You good, Alm?” Tobin asked. “You catching a cold, now?”   
  
“Yeah, somehow, despite wearing that getup,” Gray snickered.    
  
Alm blinked. He glanced down at his outfit, then up at his loyal retainers. “...What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? ...The fur cape is a little much, I admit.”   
  
“Yeah, a little!” Gray said. “It’s boiling out. Why are you still wearing that turtleneck?”   
  
Alm rolled his eyes. “It’s not a ‘turtleneck’. It’s a gambeson.”   
  
“Whatever it is, you’re still out here wearing, like, five layers in this heat,” Gray said. “I’m getting hot just looking at you!”   
  
“Yeah, I  _ bet _ you are!” Tobin snickered.    
  
“ _ Shuddup! _ ”   
  
~*~   
  
Back on Novis, Fel was offering Mae a hand. Mae gratefully let Fel hoist her up to her feet, letting out a satisfied sigh.    
  
“Your hands are so cold, Fel,” Mae said. She held a hand over the violet flames shrouding Fel’s form. The dark fire was refreshingly cool. “...Oooh. And so’s the rest of you! Faye, c’mere, feel this!”   
  
Faye rolled her eyes. “I’m not just gonna come up to Fel and cop a feel- oh! Ooooh…” Faye breathed out a sigh, violet fire curling around her fingertips. “Oh, wow, that is so nice.”   
  
Fel scrunched up her face, perplexed.    
  
“Unclear,” she said. She sat down beside Genny, her aura of dark fire spreading to envelop the whole couch in cold, violet flame. Genny shivered and let out a blissful sigh.    
  
“That feels so good!” Genny cooed.    
  
Celica blinked, tapping her chin in thought. “...Huh.”   
  
“Sister?” Fel wondered, puzzled, as everyone began gathering around her couch.    
  
“That makes sense,” Celica said. “You’re infused with Duma’s power, yes? And, among other things, Duma was god of the hearth, and god of the forge. He wouldn’t be bothered by a midsummer scorcher like this.”   
  
“As I have said, I am above such mortal concerns,” Fel said, haughty, before glancing up at all the expectant faces huddled around her. “What is this? You, sunny one. Explain this foolishness.”   
  
“Well, it’s really hot,” Faye said, “and your aura’s nice and cool, so um… would you mind if… could we, um… cuddle?”   
  
“ _ Disgusting _ ,” Fel sneered. “The Lord Champion of Duma does not  _ cuddle! _ ”   
  
“Please, Fel?” Genny asked, her request echoed by the others. Fel snapped her gaze towards her and Genny flinched under Fel’s shining, otherworldly eyes.    
  
Fel sighed, shaking her head.    
  
“...Sentiment…”   
  
Fel opened her arms, and the priory found refuge in her soothing aura. Genny slid down onto the floor and curled up beside Fel’s knees, pulling out her diary and scratching away. Boey and Silque sat on either side of her, while Mae and Faye claimed the crooks of Fel’s arms, resting their heads on her shoulders. For her part, Fel weathered all this attention with quiet puzzlement, one hand coming to rest in Genny’s hair.    
  
Fel took a deep breath and let out a content sigh. Her aura of dark power grew to encompass a good portion of the room, haloing the group in an eerie violet bonfire that held the chill of a Rigelian winter and the scents of hearth and home.    
  
Celica chuckled, and smiled.    
  
_ “‘And may all those who wither under the harsh light of day find shelter in the shadow of the divine,’” _ Celica recited.    
  
Fel glanced up, and met her eyes.    
  
“Sister?”   
  
Celica came over and took a seat by Fel’s knees. Though it was hard to see in the garish Novis summer sun, she, too, shone gold with a radiant light and heat. Where she moved, the dark fire receded, yielding to her presence. She reached up and took Fel’s hand, lacing their fingers together, dark fire and white light mingling, intertwined.    
  
Celica giggled.    
  
“You mock me, Sister?” Fel asked, with no venom in her voice.    
  
“Never,” Celica smiled. “Your hands are cold.”   
  
“We have a saying, out in the country,” Faye murmured sleepily into Fel’s neck, Silque’s hand resting in her hair. “Cold hands, warm heart.”   
  
“Oh yeah?” Mae murmured, reaching across Fel’s stomach and taking Faye’s hand, pulsing with life and heat. “What does that make you?”   
  
“A stone cold bitch,” Faye said.    
  
Mae snorted. Silque thumped Faye on the head with an indignant giggle.    
  
Fel took in the moment, surrounded by a press of bodies, their body heat reduced from “sweltering” to “pleasantly warm” thanks to her aura blanketing the room. Her hand felt a squeeze, and she glanced down, meeting Celica’s eyes.    
  
“Are you comfy, Fel?” Celica asked. “We might be here awhile…”   
  
Fel blinked, making a face.    
  
“Unclear,” she said.    
  
They spent the better part of the afternoon in a loving tangle of limbs, embraced by Fel’s aura of cold, violet flame. A bunch of them actually fell asleep- Genny, Mae, Faye, not to mention Fel’s poor arms and legs- but, other-dimension-Celica aside, it was just like any other lazy summer afternoon on Novis, everyone piled into the common room, cuddled together in the shade.    
  
~*~


End file.
